home is whenever i'm with you
by puertoricanjane
Summary: Home, family, Pazu. They all meant the same thing now.


She found that everything was fine during the day. She occupied herself with things to do, people to talk to, places to see. Pazu's home was still very new to her; she hadn't gotten the chance to look around that first time, what with being busy running from Dola and the boys. So Sheeta made a point of going around the village, in exploring everything it had to offer, and felt satisfaction upon finding she had become a familiar face in almost no time at all. People took to calling her name as she passed by and she was able to nod and greet them warmly in turn.

There was a strange but simple pleasure, she thought, in knowing and being known.

And there, of course, was Pazu. Pazu, who often came home from work with a dirt-streaked face, who would tease her by grabbing her around the waist and rubbing his cheek against hers, smearing dirt onto her own. Pazu, who merely grinned and held her tighter as she shrieked and squirmed in his arms before laughter finally won out and she found herself giggling helplessly into his shoulder. Pazu, who never made her feel anything but safe, even when he was trying to get dirt on her face of all things.

Her brave, loyal, lovely, ridiculous Pazu.

She always felt so free around him, so unburdened. It was like the warmth he naturally exuded was enough to chase any and all unpleasantness away. Shadows be gone, his goofy grin seemed to say, you aren't welcome here.

But even Pazu's steady presence couldn't prevent them from creeping in at night. Sheeta found her sleep in the days after Laputa to be fitful and she tossed and turned in her cot, Muska's awful leer taunting her behind her closed eyelids. She often woke in a sweat and would lie there, trying to drown out the sound of her heart racing in her ears by focusing on Pazu's gentle breathing a few feet away. She could reach out if she wanted; brush the edge of his mattress with the tips of her fingers, perhaps even his blanket if she stretched a bit. She knew he wouldn't mind if she got up and shook him awake but she didn't want to worry him. She had done far too much of that already.

Instead she stared up at the ceiling and wondered if Pazu too had had taken to marking the passage of time the same way in his mind, if everything now was either _before Laputa_ or _after Laputa_.

Sheeta closed her eyes and tried her best to breathe.

* * *

The little ritual began entirely on a whim.

It had been another sleepless night, no different from any of the others except Sheeta was seized with this strange compulsion to go up on the roof. After a moment's consideration, she decided anything was better than just laying here and she pushed aside her blankets and swung her legs over the side of her cot. She kept darting looks over her shoulder as she crept towards the ladder but Pazu slept like a rock and she was able to climb up and pull herself onto the roof without disturbing his sleep.

It was a bit chilly; her arms were covered by the sleeves of her night gown but the thinness of the fabric allowed her to see that goose bumps were already forming on the skin there. Her bared legs weren't faring much better and she wished she had thought to bring a blanket or something. Still, she didn't move to return inside, instead gingerly sat down and tilted her head back to look at the stars.

Sheeta breathed in the crisp night air, feeling something inside her ease now that she was up here. This was where she saw Pazu for the very first time. Was it really so long ago that she had been stirred from sleep by the sound of a trumpet playing and had wandered up here to find none other than Pazu?

No, it just felt like it. A whole lifetime of things seemed to have happened between then, she thought, remembering fire and Muska's smirk and him bearing down on her with a gun in his hands.

But it was easier to remember now that she was up on the roof that not all of it had been so horrifying. That there had been moments of joy too; she thought of the way Pazu had spun her around on Laputa, of them tumbling through the grass and laughing, drunk on their discovery of a lost civilization and the fact that they were able to share in it together. Of a million other casual touches between them, in fear or comfort or just reaching out to reassure themselves that the other was really there.

Touching him had always been so easy. Right from the moment they met, it had felt like the most natural thing in the world. She remembered how his fingers had curled into hers as he pressed bird seed in her palms and how she hadn't hesitated to hand her crystal over to him when he asked. Her mother made her promise to never show it to anyone and yet she helped him clasp it around his neck all the same. Something in that moment told her she could trust him implicitly and she was right. More right than she had ever been about anything.

Sheeta breathed out. She could see the exhalation of her breath, it was that cold, but Pazu was still at the forefront of her mind and the memory of his toothy smile warmed her insides and made her own lips curve upwards. She craned her head back further and traced the constellations with her eyes, wondering if these were the same stars she'd see in the night sky in Gondoa as a girl. She felt an all too familiar pang go through her at the thought of her childhood home but she firmly told herself that she was only to think of good memories tonight.

So Sheeta sat and looked at the stars and remembered being sandwiched between her mother and father's warmth, how the weight of her father's arm slung over her shoulder was a comforting one, how her mother tangled their fingers together and told her the story of each and every star that Sheeta pointed out with her free hand.

If she closed her eyes, she thought that she might hear the rumble of her father's laughter in her ears and feel her mother's hair tickling her neck, but it was just her and the wind.

She sat there a few heartbeats longer before going back inside.

* * *

It was only a matter of time, she supposed, before Pazu caught her in the act.

Not that she had been doing anything wrong. Just, well. Sheeta hadn't wanted to be responsible for that crease he got in his forehead when he was worried about something – when he was worried about her – and he was wearing it now as he stood at the foot of the hatch. He had called her name seconds before and his voice had been low, the way it always was when he was concerned. It was a nice sound, she couldn't help thinking. Comforting, warm.

Pazu's eyebrows were still raised in silent question.

Sheeta smiled tentatively and patted the space beside her and his mouth curled up just a little. The tiny almost-smile had disappeared by the time he took his place by her side, however, and Sheeta had to try very hard not to sigh.

"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" she asked, trying to delay the inevitable. She very carefully didn't look at Pazu but she just knew that crease in his forehead had only gotten worse with her words. "The view from up here is just lovely." She winced the moment the words left her mouth because she had unintentionally given him an opening.

So much for delaying the inevitable, she thought.

"Sheeta," he murmured. Her fingers had been twisting together in her lap, giving away her nervousness, and she felt his hand cover her own. She let out a shaky little breath, still staring straight ahead. "Would you look at me, please?"

She did. She had been right about the crease in his forehead and her fingers twitched a little under his, a part of her suddenly aching to reach out and smooth out the lines with her fingers. Sheeta had to force them to still.

Just like that, he was smiling. He curled his hand around hers, no longer resting it gently, and she was suddenly smiling too. Pazu had a funny way of doing that to her.

"I'm being silly, aren't I?" she asked.

Pazu shook his head, still softly smiling.

"No," he said. "Never that."

It was Pazu's turn to momentarily look away. He seemed to be searching for the words for something and when his eyes came back to hers, they were dark and serious. But still warm, she thought, in the way they always were whenever he looked at her. It made something in Sheeta's stomach flutter.

"I just..." He started and then stopped, taking in a deep breath and exhaling it slowly. She tightened her fingers around his and it seemed to give him courage because he continued without pause. "I never want you to feel like you can't talk to me. There's nothing in the world you can't come to me for. I'm always here if you need me. Heck, I'm here even if you don't."

She laughed and if it was a little shaky, well. It was Pazu. Suddenly overcome with the desire to touch his face, she did exactly that, untangling her fingers from his to cup his cheek. Pazu leaned into the touch and she imagined the love she felt for him in that moment would bow her over but Sheeta mysteriously managed to stay upright, the wetness in her eyes the only thing to show for it.

"I know, Pazu," she whispered finally. "Believe me, I know. I just didn't want to worry you."

"A little late for that, don't you think? Besides, we're family. Worrying is what families do."

He said it all so simply, so easily. _Family._ He wanted her to be his family. No, he already considered her to be so, had probably had all this time. Since Laputa or maybe even some time before that.

It was a beautiful word, she thought. Family. Something she thought had died with her parents, a dream she buried alongside them, deep in the ground like the seeds she used to plant every winter. Something she never thought she would have again until Pazu and oh, Sheeta could cry just from the sheer joy of it, of once again having a family.

"Do you mean it, Pazu?"

"Of course," he said. "You're my family now, Sheeta."

With his words, a dam had been broken; a sudden outpouring of emotion that surprised Sheeta herself. Pazu held her through it, as he always had, as he always would. Her hand came down from his face to fist the back of his shirt and her tears wet the side of his neck. Sheeta wept for everything; for the loss of her parents, for being taken from her home by Muska and the pain she had suffered at his hands and others. For being forced to utter a spell she never thought she would have cause to and destroying much of her ancestral place of birth in the process.

Pazu cried too and she remembered that she wasn't the only one whose world had ended, who had lost everything and was forced to go on alone. And weren't they a pair, two orphan kids crying and clutching at each other in the middle of the night?

When Sheeta finally kissed him, his lips were salty from tears. His or hers, she honestly couldn't say. But none of that mattered; all that mattered was that she kissed him and it felt right. That it felt like coming home.

Home, family, Pazu. They all meant the same thing now.

He breathed her name when she pulled away and Sheeta thought she might never feel cold again, she felt so warm. She smiled, so wide that it hurt, and Pazu smiled back. Nothing else needed to be said.

Except that wasn't true, was it? She still hadn't told him the reason for why she was up here.

She looked at him and he looked back, steady, reliable Pazu, and the words came at long last.

"I haven't been sleeping," she said quietly. "Nightmares. Of everything that happened or…or sometimes didn't. Sometimes worse, if that's possible." She could do this. She could. She cleared her throat of the sudden lump in it but she didn't look away from him, not once. "So I've been coming up here. I've found the fresh air helps. And the stars….they remind me of Gondoa."

Something in his eyes flickered at that.

"Gondoa," he said in a strange thoughtful tone, before shaking his head. His gaze was gentle but it pinned Sheeta in place. "I wish I had known sooner. I hate the thought of you dealing with that all alone."

"I didn't want to worry you," she found herself saying for the second time that night and was startled when Pazu grinned.

"Didn't we just have a whole discussion about that?"

She slowly smiled back. "I suppose we did."

"You're the strongest person I know, Sheeta. But even strong people need to lean on other people sometimes. I'm not saying you always have to come to me or that you're not capable of dealing with it on your own. Just...if you ever need me, for comfort or to talk or listen or anything, I'm here, okay?"

"Yes," she said. "I know."

And she did, because one word had convinced her of that and so much more.

Family, she thought again, and tucked her head back against his shoulder, smiling into his neck when he started to thread his fingers through her hair. She felt herself start to drift off after a while but she wasn't afraid of having any more nightmares. With Pazu holding her, her dreams could only be good ones.

She was right.

* * *

This was what Sheeta dreamt:

She was a little girl again, barely tall enough to reach the table where her father sat but still feeling that childish single-handed determination to reach him anyway. He doesn't let her struggle for long, pulling her into his lap with one of his great booming laughs, and she curled up against his chest. Felt safe, protected, loved.

She could see her mother padding around the kitchen out of the corner of her eye, her dress swishing around her legs as she moved, and yes, there was her grandmother too, helping her cook. They were alive, all of them, and she let the sound of their warm chatter wash over her, thinking that it was the most beautiful music she had ever heard.

* * *

She was still smiling when she woke up and kept on smiling the rest of the day.

* * *

Time passed but the days felt brighter somehow, with the knowledge that if someone were to ask her if she had any family, she could smile and say, "Yes, I do," and have it be god's honest truth.

Sometimes it hit her, in those beautiful, simple moments she never thought she'd have again: washing and drying the dishes side by side, swiping soap suds on Pazu's cheek and then getting in a full out water war in the kitchen when he retaliated by splashing her, agreeing as they cleaned up afterward that yes, it had absolutely been worth it; the way their knees would sometimes knock against each other under the table and how they smiled a little every time, her cooking for him or him cooking for her, the give and take of everyday life with another person.

She sometimes looked at him and felt a faint twinge of disbelief that he was there and that he would continue to be through all her days. It almost felt too good to be true, like this was all a dream and one day she'd wake up and be all alone again.

She knew he felt something similar because sometimes he'd turn the corner and she'd be there, sitting or doing something or another, and she'd look up and there would be this expression on his face. Like he didn't expect to see her, to see anyone, and he was surprised but happy.

What a pair they made, she thought again, but this time the thought only brought her happiness. They were parentless but not alone, never alone, because they now belonged to each other.

It was almost enough to make Sheeta skip on her way back from the village but she didn't want to look silly so she contented herself with a smile that was probably as goofy as Pazu's. It was such a beautiful day too; the sky was pure blue with almost no clouds in sight.

Her feet slowed as she neared the house and saw that Pazu was waiting for her out front. But that wasn't all; the glider was there with him.

"Have you been flying?" she asked, as soon as she was closer. Pazu rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. He was nervous, she realized. She wondered whatever for but knew that he would tell her in time.

"No. Not yet anyway. Um…what I mean is…."

Sheeta waited patiently and she saw the moment when Pazu steeled himself: His nervous gaze steadied then bore into her.

"I thought it was time I make good on my promise."

"Promise?" she said, frowning a little in confusion. Pazu nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "On Dola's ship, remember? I promised that I'd take you back to Gondoa after everything was over and I...I failed to keep it. I'm sorry."

Oh. That promise. She suddenly felt far away from herself as she recalled them up in that crow's next, cuddled under the poncho for warmth against the biting wind and how he told her that he wanted to see it all, the house she had grown up in and the valley and everything. She realized now that he had been saying it even then, only with different words.

_You're my family now, Sheeta._

Her realization must have shown on her face because Pazu smiled at her and the tenderness in it took her breath away.

"I still want to see it all, Sheeta. And you've been away for so long...you deserve to go back. Even stay, if that's what you want."

"But what about you?" She felt panic overcome her, despite all the promises they had made and everything they had shared, because he couldn't be leaving her. He just couldn't. Sheeta was still so very afraid of being left alone.

Pazu shrugged, almost carelessly, but his words were anything but.

"I go where you go."

And he didn't so much as falter breathing those last words. Just said them, as easily as he had all the others.

"But you have a life here, Pazu! A job, friends, birds, a home. I couldn't possibly make you give that all up for me."

"If you don't want to stay in Gondoa, all of that will still be here. And if you do, well, we have the glider. It won't take much to come and visit, if the weather conditions are good."

"Your house-" she began feebly, but Pazu cut her off, a fond smile tugging at his mouth.

"-would be empty without you. Sheeta, don't you get it? We're family. I want to be wherever you are."

Sheeta just stared at him for a long moment, not saying anything, before throwing her arms around him. She breathed in his scent; he smelled a little of freshly cut grass and it reminded her of Gondoa, of playing in the meadows as a girl.

And maybe, she thought, that was an answer all its own.

She whispered "Okay," into his neck and let out a surprised laugh when he started spinning her around and she was dizzy, from being spun around or from all the love and joy rolling around inside her, she didn't know. She figured it was a combination of all three.

She kissed him when she was finally back on her feet, hands coming up to cradle his face, and well, that was that.

* * *

Sheeta breathed in deep and it was the air coming off the northern mountains, the air of her home. It was Pazu's hand she held as she showed him the place that helped shape her into the woman he loved; the meadows and animals and all her favorite hiding places as a girl when she was feeling mischievous or not up to doing chores. Pazu soaked it all in, asking her question after question, and Sheeta wouldn't stop smiling for anything.

That night she and Pazu sat at her family's table and she remembered how, after they died, she had sat many times with her eyes closed, hoping that when she opened them that her father would be sitting across from her, that her mother would just be coming up behind him and would curl a loving arm around his shoulders, that they'd both smile at her and she finally wouldn't be alone.

When Sheeta opened them this time, Pazu was there, and that was a promise too. One that she could always count on him to keep.


End file.
